The End of the War: Balbane's Legacy
by Insanegamr
Summary: We know of Ramza and his noble struggle. But what of his father, the man who first believed in a Knight's true honor? This is the tale of Balbanes, Heavenly Knight and loving Father, And of HIS search for truth...


**The End of the War**

_**Prologue**_

A knight walks down the streets of Zarghidas Trade city. His blonde hair was streaked with gray, and his clothes were travel-worn. However, his manner is light and carefree. His eyes reveal nothing but merriness, although a closer look would show suffering of an untold nature. Nevertheless, he walked calmly with a slight spring in his step. His sword is tied closely to his belt, as though anticipating action. A brown traveling cloak hung from around his neck.

A group of thieves suddenly rush to surround this man. He stops and asks in a firm tone, although not without politeness, "Excuse me, but whose side are you on in this war?"

A lancer, who seems to be the leader, sniggered. "Are you daft or somethin'? We are with Ordalia, though what business is it of yours?"

The Knight smiled sadly. "I'm afraid that it is entirely my business. You see, I side with Ivalice, and that means that you have made a very foolish decision in attacking me."

The thieves laugh uproariously. When they are done, they turn back to the knight to find that he had vanished. A monk looks around furiously, trying to find him.

"Where did he go, huh? I don't see him noplace."

A whistle makes them whip around to the rooftop. He stood there, cloak discarded and blade drawn. The man was garbed in plates of gold, and on his head sat a helmet with a strange face-guard. His blade was blood-red, and shone with an ominous sheen.

He swung it once in their direction. A bright light shone down from the heavens, its power pummeling the thieves into the ground. A few died on the spot, but the others were apparently made of stronger mettle. They decided to charge the rooftop, but before they went three steps, glacial energy fell around them and exploded, leaving only three alive.

The Knight looked to the source of this new energy: another knight, similarly garbed but wielding a different blade, one jet-black in design. Within an instant he was at the Knight's side, yet he felt no fear; this was one of his oldest friends, known to many as T.G. Cid.

"Well done, Cidolfas."

"Same to you, Balbanes."

"What should we do with these miscreants?"

"Were it up to me, they would be released without their weapons. But we are at war, and they are the enemy. It would appear that we must at least figure out what they know."

Orlandu shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "Come on, Balbanes, who are you trying to fool? It is apparent that they are but thieves; mercenaries fighting for a scrap of bread and whatever else may help their pitiful state. Here, I'll show you."

He walked over to one of the thieves, who stood stock still, although through no will of his own. With a movement the eye could scarce follow, his sword shredded through the geomancer's rags. Due to a chemical put on the sword, the man was instantly asleep; Cid lifted what was left of his pitiful garment to reveal a sickly torso, ribs showing near through the skin.

Balbanes found an antidote to the chemical on Orlandu's sword and gave it to the slumbering man. He awoke instantly. Balbanes then cast a spell, freeing the remaining thieves from the spell that his friend had unintentionally placed on them. He then spoke, with a voice as clear and sharp as ice, with an air of command that none dared disobey.

"I would, under different circumstances, be obliged to execute you. However, I believe in a sense of mercy, and as such, I feel that you, miscreants though you are, deserve a chance for life. You will leave your weapons here. You will then leave the city. If you are still within city limits in one minute, we will capture you and execute you on sight."

The lancer, although obviously terrified out of his mind, still managed a sneer. "Just how do you propose to do that?"

"Like this."

His countenance shimmered, and a second later had vanished entirely.

His voice then came from behind the lancer. "There is a reason we are called Magic Fencers."

The thieves did not turn around. They knew that Balbanes was behind them; there was no need to confirm the fact. His voice rang out again, this time much harsher. "Why are you still here?!"

Before half a minute had passed, they had gone.

Balbanes looked at Orlandu. He passed him a flask of wine he kept sealed in his cloak. "To the end of the war?"

"To the end of the war."

They both drank deeply.


End file.
